


Dance for Three

by Allekha



Series: YoI New Year's Countdown [13]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Present Tense, Self-cest, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 23:46:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13201155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allekha/pseuds/Allekha
Summary: After Onsen on Ice, another Yuuri starts to occasionally appear in Yuuri's room at night, dressed in hisEroscostume. It turns out that Victor can see and touch him, too.





	Dance for Three

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt 'resolution' on the holiday-prompts New Year's table. (I cheated slightly and interpreted it as in resolve, not as in New Year's resolutions.)

Yuuri starts to see him the night of Onsen on Ice.

Yuuri can't sleep – he's too keyed up from the win, from _finally_ getting to have some of that delicious katsudon with Victor, from the feeling of Victor's hands wrapped firmly on his arm, his shoulder. It's kind of sad that Yuri had left so quickly – Yuuko said she saw him safely off at the airport, at least – but that means that it's just been him and Victor (and press and his family and the Nishigooris) all evening.

He sits up, wondering if he should go for a midnight run or something, or maybe just play a video game, and through the thin light of the moon shining through his curtains, he sees a shape at the end of his bed. Heart in his throat – it can't be Makkachin, she's with Victor – he yanks the nearest curtain to see what it is.

There's another him there, wearing his _Eros_ outfit, hair slicked back and everything. He's perched on the very edge of the covers, one leg thrown over the other and leaning back on one hand. He smiles at Yuuri, confident and serene, and between one blink and the next, he vanishes.

Yuuri leaps to his feet and throws the light switch. There really is nothing there. The costume is right where he left it, folded carefully and lovingly.

Maybe he was half-asleep, though he's not tired at all. Maybe it was just his imagination, too much excitement from today, too little sleep in the pursuit of adding the last tweak his program needed. After several minutes, Yuuri manages to dismiss it, and settles down to play an addictive little puzzle game on his laptop until it's far too late.

Then he sees him again a week later. Then a week and a half after that. The spirit – as Yuuri thinks of him – is never around for long. Ten or fifteen seconds at first, then maybe half a minute by the end of the summer. He's always smiling, always possesses that air of confidence that Yuuri wishes he could have, always shows up posing. He drapes himself on Yuuri's desk; he leans against the wall with one leg cocked up; he sprawls on Yuuri's bed and peers at him upside-down.

He has dark eyes that are hard to look away from, and he looks identical to Yuuri in almost every way. His fingernails are lacquered black, and maybe his lips are tinted a bit red, hints of scarlet at the corners of his eyes. Other than that, they could be twins.

Yuuri, quite honestly, doesn't know what to do about him, but it seems like a shame to ask a priest to exorcise him or something when he's not doing any harm, and besides, Yuuri's busy. So he gets used to it. Sometimes he thinks of the expressions the spirit wears when he practices, and whenever he does, Victor's eyes go bright and wide. "Perfect!" he calls out. "Yes, like that, Yuuri!"

After his short program at the regional competition, Victor takes him out to dinner (which seems to half be an excuse to get Yuuri to order him good food from the shy waitress who doesn't know any English). The whole way back to the hotel, Victor lectures him about his skating again. Yuuri manages to lose him before Victor can take the lecture right into his room – his _own_ room, even though Victor had suggested they share.

The space is nice, because Yuuri practically melts into the door and slumps all the way to the floor, face burning.

Victor had wanted Yuuri to seduce him. He can still hear Victor's voice asking him, feel the warmth of his arms around him (they've hugged before, but not like _that_ ), even smell the faint scent of his cologne.

And then he'd gone out and put himself into the role he needed in order to do so. _Katsudon fatale_ , what the hell was he thinking, even slipping into feminine pronouns for those couple of minutes.

He'd felt so free on the ice. Felt – sexy, even. Seductive. Enchanting. He'd landed a huge increase on his personal best.

Victor hasn't been acting like he was seduced at all.

Was it all just talk, to get Yuuri in the right mood? After all of his flirting? Or did Yuuri screw it up, despite his scores?

"He really liked it."

His head shoots up so fast that it clunks back on the door. "Ow!" He winces, rubs at the sore spot, and then looks up.

There's the spirit, lying on Yuuri's bed, legs twisted together and arms tossed by his head. He's never spoken before. His voice is almost like Yuuri's, too, but the pitch is slightly higher.

"What?"

"He liked it," the other Yuuri says again. "A lot. Your performance was beautifully done."

"Okay," Yuuri says. He rubs his eyes. The other Yuuri is still there. "Thanks? Um. How do you know?"

"How do you think?" He sits up, slowly, and offers a hand. Yuuri stands up and goes over to the bed, takes it. It's warm, and the feel of the material on his palm is familiar. The other Yuuri smiles, and Yuuri can't help but smile back, and then he's gone.

Yuuri stares at his hand. At the bed. At his hand. This is getting weird.

But the spirit had only tried to encourage him. So. That's fine. Besides, Yuuri's life hasn't been normal since Victor Nikiforov showed up naked in front of him all those months ago.

Yuuri breaks out his laptop and starts up the puzzle game again, but despite the spirit's words, Victor's reaction still niggles at him. Eventually he composes a text and takes twenty minutes to send it; it feels ridiculously insecure, but he has to know.

_Did you like it?_

The reply comes almost instantaneously. _I loved it! It was your best rendition of it yet_. A moment later: _Couldn't you tell?_

 _All you did was lecture me about it with a frown and then tell me to take it easy for my FP_. Yuuri isn't sure he should send it for a moment, but, well, Victor's never been a coach before. He has to learn somehow.

_Oh. Next time, I'll hug you again, first ♥_

Yuuri flushes, but the text makes him feel so happy. He looks at it again before he goes to bed. He does, eventually, get his hug, although by then the pain of the collision with the rink has set in and he can't really enjoy it.

The spirit doesn't start showing up more often after that, but he does stay longer, talk more. When Yuuri touches him, he seems as real as Yuuri himself is.

He doesn't really mind the visits. They're a reminder of what Victor apparently sees in him, the _eros_ he can draw out of himself even though he wasn't really aware that it existed before.

Even when the other Yuuri lies down next to him one night, pressing against his back, when Yuuri is already busy and distracted with – other things. Because Yuuri's imagination had fed on glossy magazine pictures for years, and having Victor himself around (not to mention seeing him naked every day, being touched by him all the time) has sent it into overdrive.

"What are you thinking about?" the other Yuuri murmurs in his ear when Yuuri freezes. "What's Victor doing in your mind?"

It's weird, doing this with someone touching him, but it's also only himself – or some version of himself, or at least something that looks a lot like himself – and Yuuri doesn't exactly want to stop, and when the other Yuuri starts whispering suggestions in his ear, he finds his hand moving again. The other Yuuri doesn't even need him to talk back. When the other Yuuri's hand creeps down to join his, Yuuri gasps, his hips buck, and his mind goes blank.

The other Yuuri is still there when he opens his eyes again. Yuuri looks over his shoulder; the other Yuuri looks pretty satisfied, as though he is the one who just came, and he gives Yuuri a lazy, content smile before he vanishes.

...this is beyond strange.

The next time the other Yuuri shows up, though, Yuuri doesn't push him away. Because it's strange, but it had felt good last time, and it didn't feel like the times people have tried to flirt with him before, skaters at competitions and strangers at American parties and Victor, those first couple of weeks.

The other Yuuri takes his hand when Yuuri slowly offers it. The other Yuuri settles his head on his shoulder when they lie down. The other Yuuri draws a hand down his chest. The other Yuuri twines the two of them together and doesn't say a word.

Then, after China – after Victor kisses him in public, Yuuri's ready to burst with happiness and also not sure how he's going to look his family in the eye when they go home – he and Victor sleep together in the same bed. Or Victor sleeps. Yuuri can't stop turning the day over in his mind, their argument and his program and the _kiss._ How did he ever get so lucky? How is this actually his life?

Victor's holding him from the front, head nuzzled under Yuuri's chin. A weight presses the bed down behind him, and then there's a second pair of arms wrapped around him. "I told you he liked it," the other Yuuri whispers.

"Yeah."

"You're the one who seduced him. You did this."

"Yeah," Yuuri breathes.

He falls asleep after that. The other Yuuri is gone when he awakens, but Victor is looking at him like he's the luckiest man in the world. It really should be the other way around, but Yuuri's too busy kissing him good-morning to complain.

The other Yuuri doesn't show up again until after his short program in Russia. Until after Yuuri and Victor have spent half an hour making out in their hotel room. Until after they've had enough for the evening, and settle down to sleep, except Victor keeps telling Yuuri how hot he was and how beautifully he skated and giving him more kisses on his cheek and neck and lips.

Victor is asleep already when the other Yuuri sits on his other side, next to his head. Yuuri wonders if Victor could see him, were he awake. He'd probably make the _best_ face.

The other Yuuri looks at Victor fondly. Looks at Yuuri as though as asking for permission. He nods; the other Yuuri gently puts a hand on Victor's hair and just keeps it there, still.

The other Yuuri has never met Victor – never talked with him – but if he's Yuuri, he must like Victor as much as Yuuri does.

"We should surprise him sometime," Yuuri murmurs, and the other Yuuri gives him another one of those smiles. The same kind of smile that Yuuri throws right at the beginning of his _Eros_ routine.

The other Yuuri doesn't show up in Barcelona. Maybe that's for the best.

He does show up a couple of times in that awful gap between the GPF and his Nationals and Victor's sudden reappearance at Russian Nationals. Yuuri doesn't know why he feels so lonely and upset. It was bad enough for two days during Rostelcom; two weeks drag on and on. Yuuri went five years barely seeing his family and friends from Hasetsu at all, barely remembering to call or email them, and now he's so attached to Victor that he can hardly wait for their nightly Skype call.

The other Yuuri shows up leaning against his bed by Yuuri's knee during one call. He simply sits on Yuuri's bed another night, all folded long legs and easy grace to his bent arms, his eyes dark even in the bright light.

The next time he appears, Yuuri's in Russia. Victor won't stop smiling; he fusses over whether Yuuri has enough warm clothes for the winter and whether he has everything he could ever want in their apartment. It's almost the end of the year, and Yuuri goes to fetch something from the bedroom before they go to sleep, only to find the other Yuuri sitting on the covers, one leg bent up.

It's as good of a night as any. As if he can read his thoughts – maybe he can – the other Yuuri grins and lowers his eyelids. Does his face really look like that during his _Eros_ routine? It's... pretty hot, actually. Victor would love it. _Will_ love it.

"Victor," he says when he comes back out. "Come here?"

Victor comes over and kisses him – he won't stop kissing Yuuri. Yakov has yelled at him more than once about it already. In public, it's kind of embarrassing (but he likes showing everyone how head-over-heels Victor is for him, too) but at home it's just nice. "Yes?" he asks.

"I know you said Russians don't celebrate before their birthdays, but is a belated gift okay?"

"Mm." Victor nuzzles his hair. Yuuri has to push him off before he starts clinging. "I don't see why not."

"It's a little strange," Yuuri admits. "But I think you'll be surprised."

He takes Victor's hand and leads him into the bedroom, flips the light. The other Yuuri, thankfully, is still there, though his pose has shifted into something that's even more inviting. Somehow. Yuuri studies it and takes a careful mental note while Victor makes a quiet, high-pitched noise beside him.

His face really is amazing.

"Is this real?" Victor demands. "Yuuri, you don't have a twin, do you?"

"No." Yuuri shrugs. "He started appearing during the summer. I don't know why. But he likes you a lot, too. Probably as much as I do."

Victor stares. Stares. Stares. Looks at Yuuri. Looks at the other Yuuri. Covers his mouth. Stares.

The other Yuuri gracefully unfolds himself from the bed and onto his feet. He walks with a gentle, natural sway of the hips; he reaches up to Victor's face with one hand, raises himself onto his bare toes, and kisses him. Yuuri feels like he should be feeling jealous, but – it's still him, kind of, so he doesn't. Actually, it's interesting to see how this looks like from the outside.

When the other Yuuri draws away, he takes Victor's hand and starts to lead him towards the bed. Yuuri follows. They sit Victor down, then sit on either side of him. Victor keeps looking between them. His expression suggests that he's about to faint from happiness.

Yuuri kisses him, then other Yuuri does again, and pretty soon they've sandwiched Victor between them, legs all tangling together. Victor whimpers when Yuuri starts to unbutton his shirt and slides a warm hand around to his back; when the other Yuuri tangles his fingers in his hair to pull him into another kiss, he puts an arm around his waist.

"Yuuri," he pants. "Yuuri, Yuuri – other Yuuri? Both of you, ah—" He arches into Yuuri's touch on his chest. Yuuri could look at him all day like this, the dazed face that he wears, a flush that's hot and pink starting to spread across his cheeks. "Could I – could you kiss for me? Please? Please, Yuuri."

The other Yuuri crooks a hand under Yuuri's chin and leans in. It's surprisingly good. The way Victor sighs underneath them makes it even better. Yuuri pushes further into it, opens his mouth, lets the other Yuuri's tongue in. He's really, really good at this. Better than Yuuri himself is. Well, if he's the embodiment of his _eros_ , that only makes sense. It feels good enough that for a moment Yuuri forgets the strangeness of this entire situation, even forgets Victor.

But only for a moment. When they lie down with him again, the other Yuuri pulls Victor to face him, a leg hiked over his hip. Yuuri strips off his own clothes – only pausing to watch the two of them making out, because it looks so hot – before he lies behind Victor and wraps an arm around him, kisses his neck.

Victor turns his head as far as he can, and Yuuri leans up on elbow so he can kiss him again. When he finally pulls away to catch his breath, the other Yuuri has finished pulling the last of Victor's clothes off. Victor looks elated. He keeps grabbing at both of them. Yuuri still can't quite believe, somewhere in his head, that Victor wants him so much that he's not even questioning why there are two of them, just diving into it. But he does.

(To be fair, Yuuri wouldn't stop to question it if another Victor showed up in their bed one night, either.)

He and Victor have only had sex – or as Victor always calls it, made love – a few times so far. Victor, for all of his image, is apparently not one to rush right into those things. It's not romantic enough, he says. Once before Barcelona, once in Barcelona – a few hours before Victor's changed flight left for Russia – and several times since Yuuri came to Saint Petersburg. So they're still learning what each other likes.

Yuuri reaches down to touch Victor and tries to remember how he likes it best. Victor rewards him with a low moan that the other Yuuri swallows before Victor breaks free. "Yuuri," he says. "Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri – are you going to both...?"

Yuuri hasn't exactly thought this through. It's the same kind of split-second decision that led to him throwing a quad flip into his free skate at China.

But the other Yuuri, the _eros_ Yuuri, has ideas, of course. "We have a lot of options," he says, running a finger down Victor's neck to his collar, making Victor shudder. Or maybe that's Yuuri's hand. "Why don't you make love to me while Yuuri makes love to you? How does that sound, Victor?"

"Oh my god," Victor whispers. Yuuri takes that as _yes, fantastic, please, Yuuri, please_.

Yuuri has to, reluctantly, pull off of Victor and stretch out to get some things from the bedside table. While he's busy with that, he keeps looking up to watch as Victor slowly peels the slim pants off of the other Yuuri, leaving his _Eros_ top on. That's... huh. The half-skirt fanning across his skin, the black material still clinging to his waist and every muscle of his torso. It makes Yuuri want to get out his own costume. Victor would probably explode with joy.

He hands the lube to Victor, first, and hooks his chin on Victor's shoulder to watch him slide his fingers into the other Yuuri. The other Yuuri doesn't make weird faces or noises like Yuuri does sometimes; he pants and flushes and he does _something_ with his eyes that Yuuri really should learn. Victor kisses him, kisses him, until the other Yuuri puts a hand on his chest and says, almost sweetly, "I want you inside of me now."

He hooks his leg back over Victor's hip. Victor moans when he pushes in, moans louder when Yuuri pulls his eyes off of the two of them long enough to start working his own fingers into Victor. It's hard. The other Yuuri looks like everything Yuuri wants to be in bed with Victor, and Victor is, well, Victor.

Victor keeps murmuring his name. The other Yuuri is quieter, his painted nails digging into Victor's shoulders hard enough to leave marks, his slicked-back hair starting to come apart a little and fall into his eyes.

Victor instantly goes quiet when Yuuri starts to slide into him. His head collapses to the bed. The other Yuuri frowns, just the slightest bit, when Yuuri's all the way in, and moves his own hips; Yuuri can feel his muscles working where they touch. "Yuuuuri," Victor groans. "You're amazing. You're wonderful. Yuuri, Yuuri—"

Yuuri pulls his head around to kiss him. Victor's gone back to looking dazed, his pretty blue eyes unfocused. Yuuri doesn't think he'll actually get tried of Victor saying his name like that, but it _is_ getting slightly repetitive. When he lets go, Victor buries his face in the other Yuuri's shoulder.

He can see the other Yuuri over Victor when he positions his head right. He can bend his neck enough to kiss the tips of his fingers – he likes it when Victor does that, and the other Yuuri's hands tighten their grip when Yuuri does it to him. He can't see Victor's face, but he can feel every shudder that goes through him when Yuuri rolls his hips, every movement that has the other Yuuri's eyes closing and fluttering open again.

It's Victor who comes first, tensing and gasping, whispering apologies a few moments later. "Hush," the other Yuuri says, letting Victor ease out of him. "It's alright. You have two of us, and you don't have our stamina. _Victor_. Here." He pulls one of Victor's hands off his hips. Yuuri can't see where it goes, but he can see the result: the other Yuuri throws his head back and leaves scratches on Victor's skin.

He and the other Yuuri come, if not at the same time, so closely together that Yuuri doesn't know otherwise. He presses his face to Victor's hair, hips jerking, everything pleasure and _Victor_ and a little bit of _other Yuuri_ for long moments.

Victor murmurs to the other Yuuri, then slowly turns to face Yuuri. He doesn't say anything, just reaches out to hold him close. Victor strokes his hair and runs a hand down his back. Coming down, Yuuri thinks about what they've just done, and can't quite believe that they did it.

When they next look up, the other Yuuri is gone.

"Oh," goes Victor. He sounds so disappointed.

"He'll appear again," Yuuri says. "It's not like you only had this one chance."

Victor lights up. "Oh, that's right! Good, I have a lot of things I want to try. You're wonderful, Yuuri, but _two_ of you! Mm, would it be too weird to watch the two of you next time? It would look amazing. Please?"

"Okay," Yuuri says. They can talk about it next time.

"Or...."

"Victor," Yuuri mumbles, tired. "Can we go to sleep?"

"Okay," he laughs, and then he insists on a few more kisses before pulling Yuuri up their bed so they can rest properly on the pillows. "I'm so lucky," he murmurs. Then, once more: "Yuuri."

"Shush," Yuuri says, smiling.


End file.
